If God is real, why did He create bugs? A loving creator--a loving Father--would not be so cruel as to breathe life into such disgusting creatures. I wonder, if He is real, and He did make bugs. . . what was He thinking? What would possess Him to make a six-legged, slimy, filthy, buzzing demon that refuses to die and can lay eggs in your ears? Do they find some instinctual joy, as they zoom around through the air, trying so hard to lodge themselves in my throat? Why--

Something rough and hard slammed into my face, disrupting thoughts and balance alike. The earth was fertile beneath me, as it should be in an eternal spring, and a quick brush of my hands left kitten scratches of dirt across my palms that dried almost instantly. The scent of mineral, leaf and dampness filling the forest, like cold air, was collected closer to ground level and stung my sinuses.

"Did you actually just run into a branch? So much for 'attentiveness'." She forced one eye shut, a true parody of a wink, before continuing forward without even bothering to offer a hand.

Upon regaining my posture, the extent of my spill's repercussions became apparent. There were brown smears across the whole of my left leg, and a chunk of soil had wedged into my scales, ruining its regality. Without thought, I raked a careful hand against my chestplate, only pressing the mud further into the scaling, leaving me with a fistful of dirt and an emblem of shit on my chest. I was a self-proclaiming king of refuse.

In the mountain of filth that had re-accumulated in my hand, something poked out of it, as an old woman might hobble out of her front door to wave nuisance children off with a broom. The mud catapulted as my inner monkey came forth, disregarding where it might land, and I let out a disgusted half-grunt, half-shout. My arms flailed and I swatted at my body, every bead of sweat suddenly feeling like the mucus of a living creature gliding across my skin.

Maya noticed my helpless shouts and ran to me, sword raised. I matched her sword with a palm.

"I'm fine, it was nothing. Just my imagination."

She halted, sheathing her sword, and gave me a narrow-eyed stare. Her arms went up in defeat.

"You threw a hissy-fit like that for no reason at all? I don't believe you." My eyes shifted to the slight bobbing of pink on the tree next to her, and she poked at it with her finger. A little, pink worm was wriggling around in it, confused by the state of its new, airborne home. "Wait--are you scared of bugs?"

"No. Of course I'm not. They're just tiny little insects. They can't hurt me. I know that. What does it matter?"

"This worm's kinda cute, why don't you take a look at it?" She gently pulled the worm from its home, once again upturning its world, and dangled it in front of me. Despite my best efforts, I recoiled in disgust.

"Get it away from me."

"Well, that's good to know. Here, I'll get rid of the worm--but now I know your weakness, Superman. You better not piss me off, or I'll stuff your pillow full of maggots and centipedes."

All I could muster in response was a weak croak. It took everything within me not to retch as an image of the little slimy noodle inched across my mind, squelching and stretching, stretching and squelching. . .

I really, really didn't want her to know about that. . .

Maya cast the worm aside and for a brief moment, it soared through the air, experiencing flight just as the bird that eats it would. With a tiny splat, it smacked into a tree--abruptly ending the Adventures of a Clueless Worm. I eyed it, hesitating to make the first move.

She rolled her eyes at me before continuing forward. "Come on already, stop being so dramatic and keep walking. We're almost out of the forest."

I straightened myself and looked overhead. It was hard to see past such a thick canopy, but I was able to make out roughly where the sun was by a concentration of yellow poking through the matted net of rust and emerald. She's right, it's probably six hours until nightfall. We need to work extremely quickly once we get to Zoxum.

Thankfully, we cut through the rest of the forest with ease and a pleasant lack of interruptions. Dominaria's tangling of vegetation ends rather abruptly, withering into a vast ocean of sand dotted with blue cacti and arid trees that stretches to the horizon--very aptly (and somewhat unimaginatively) named the Endless Desert. We're still not sure how a forest can exist right along the edge of a wasteland, but one thing is certain--trying to cross it on foot would be suicide. Which is a shame, because rumor has it that, at the other end, there are mountains frosted with pink snow and exotic fruits so sweet your teeth rot overnight.

And at the nexus of these two biomes, a fault between blossom and wither, lied an oblong skull twice the size of our castle. Time had weathered the bone to a dirty brown, dulling the teeth and flattening the eye sockets. Inside it was a city, and as for why anyone would live in the bones of a monster, I cannot say. Perhaps they were just the dying thoughts of a stubborn Titan desperately clinging to the world.

The skullcap was shaved thin, looking like parchment stretched over the city, letting sun's light in with less heat. There was a thin black line wrapping the bone, like a hairband stretched over it, dotted with red. It was an uncomfortable, eerie sight, and to further the mystery, there was no trace of the beast's body in sight.

Luckily for us, Zoxum's dead keep was built with its snout kissing the forest--or, maybe, that was how the gargantuan had died, burning under the sun and snapping at the forest for a bit of shade. The forward wall stood twenty feet high, sealing the creature's slightly opened jaw, but there were also entrances at the north and south borders--since the west faces the Endless Desert, perhaps they saw no need in making it accessible. Or maybe they just ran out of resources for another gate.

I motioned to Maya, beckoning her to follow me, approaching Zoxum's southern edge. There was a watchtower guarding the east, short, erected in the nasal cavity. It did not look sturdy, made of bound logs instead of stone. Either they're confident, idiots, or. . . they ran out of resources. It's really hard to tell with these guys.

As we neared the seam between sand and wood, I grabbed Maya and pulled her behind a mossy boulder, finger pressed to my lips. My eyes motioned toward the scouting party returning from deep within Dominaria Forest. There were five, all covered from head to toe in absurd, red and black armor. Yeah, I'm beginning to think they're just lacking for intelligence--which is a resource, in a way. What kind of camouflage is that, when you live in-between a forest and desert? And BLACK armor, under this harsh sun?! . . .no, quiet your thoughts. Focus.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"We can use this as an opening. Let's take them out swiftly, drag them out of sight, and use their equipment to masquerade as the survivors of an ambush. They'll let us in, and we can work from there," I whispered to her, keeping an eye on the scouts.

A huge smile swept over her face, and we slid from behind the rock back into the forest, hooking behind them. We each took to one side of the group, slinking low with swords drawn until within ten feet. In the distance, the massive stone gate ground against sand as it swung. Our eyes met, and a synchronized nod set us in motion.

Like a receding hairline, the forest thinned nearing the desert. Before the party could get there, we leapt forward, each hacking the head off the two rear guards. Crumpling armored bodies alerted the three further up, but by then, our blades had skewered the throats of two more, streaking the brilliant blades with streams of black blood. The final warrior dropped his sword and ran like a frightened deer, Maya immediately taking pursuit.

"Maya, you have to kill him or he'll alert the town," I shouted with the lowest possible voice I could. She continued toward the forest edge, gaining on him, nearing withing leaping distance, then. . . suddenly stopped and turned to me.

"He got away," she said with a smile. I was staring at her, mouth agape.

"Maya, the entire city knows we're attacking now. It was an insane mission to begin with, but this. . ."

"It'll be fine! It's more fun this way," she said in a playful tone. "I hate sneaking around."

I lifted my face from the cup I'd made of my hands. "You. . . you let him go?"

"Yep! You're so boring and stealthy, I hate it. Sorry! You're gonna have your work cut out for you today, mister."

I sighed deeply, looking to the ground and locking eyes with a mouse taking cover under a bit of shrubbery. You seem like a nice mouse. One that wouldn't try to make my life more difficult than it needs to be.

The rodent scurried across my boot, leaving behind a thin streak of urine.

"Well, we've come this far already and if we retreat, they'll just build their defenses even further. . . so I guess I have no choice now. Damn it, Maya. Let's go."

She giggled, jogging backwards ahead of me. "Count how many you take down. I bet I'll beat you."

I rolled my eyes without a word, but she knew I'd participate in the contest. I detest losing a challenge with her--she's an insufferable winner, but a quiet loser.

The eastern entrance was blocked with a massive stone gate that swung out from a single hinge; one massive slab swinging toward the forest just enough for men to get in and out.They must've only had the resources for one.

"We need to get inside before that gate closes, or we're not finding a way in," I shouted to Maya as we closed in on the entrance. The gate was swinging shut now, men atop the wall cranking as hard as they could behind a shouting master and cracking whip. Somewhere deeper in the city, a booming, brassy horn blared.

Maya leapt through the opening with ease, but I struggled to fit myself into such a tight space. In went my left leg, left arm, then my head and torso, and finally my right arm. My right foot, however, was caught in the door. Fearing a pancaked foot, I yanked as hard as I could, pushing against the door with my arms. Just as the gate squeezed shut, crushing the metal like a piece of parchment, my foot popped out of its boot and I stumbled free. Looking back, I saw the faint, flattened remnants of it sticking out from between the gate and wall like a freshly minted coin, letting out a nervous chuckle. Maya shook her head in disappointment at the sight of my now bare foot, protected only by a sandy sock dangling from my toes.

Why does the ground have to be so hot? I hate sand. It's coarse, and rough, and. . .

Paying too much attention to my searing foot, I failed to notice how many soldiers were gathering in the courtyard. Zoxum was a rather bland keep on the inside except for its creepy, milky bone sky. The city itself was of plain sandstone buildings laid out in repetition from edge to edge. The city was designed around an enormous tree with thousands of matted branches fanning out from a single, stocky trunk. It was like a wooden mushroom from the underside, with a top of green needles that let no light through. Twelve main roads stemmed out from it, like tick marks on a clock. A myriad of cookie-cutter structures filled the spaces between roads in straight, even rows. We were in the eastern courtyard, a massive and wide open stretch of sandy flooring with nothing to hide behind. It looked more like someone had taken a bite out of the cityscape than it did a place to gather and relax.

"Well, Maya, I hope you're satisfied," I said under my breath, looking in every direction as a tornado of black and red swirled around us.

"They kinda look like bugs, don't they?" Maya joked to me, our backs against each other.

"Are you trying to kill me before the fight even starts?"

"More for me."

We were rotating slowly, backs touching, scanning the rooftops and doorways as soldiers jeered and gestured at us. They almost seemed to be crawling, the way they circled around us.

"Don't get cocky, now, Maya. This won't be easy like it was when we conquered the castle at Garavax. I can't even count how many soldiers there are." She was too busy howling back at the screeching swarm to pay me any mind.

The swirling stopped, and the soldiers quieted. "Get ready, Maya. They're coming for us, now. Break for the building to my left and we'll try to control a rooftop, forcing them to funnel into us."

The silence was tarnished only by the sound of metal boots grinding sand beneath them. No longer swirling, the hurricane had ended, and we were in the storm's eye. The sun had crept well past its zenith, judging by the brightest smudge overhead. We have another four hours at best to get back. Shit.

We braced ourselves, but still, they did not come. They did not shout or growl or stomp their feet. What had once been a swirling black turned into stillness, like the night descending upon us. I gulped, tightening my grip on Somnior, which was lamenting the lack of sunlight to bathe in.

The tension snapped so hard you could hear it, like a twig crushed underfoot.

A pile of soldiers blocking off the eastern entrance launched forward. We broke off toward the building I'd pointed out, barreling at the entrance. I slammed my shoulder into a Zoxan trying to intercept me from the right, casting him to the ground and tripping the incoming soldiers behind him. Maya lowered and twirled, threading her blade through the throats of two blocking the doorway.

We shoved inside, hearing a sea of footsteps pounding the ground behind us. There was a stairway just ahead, and another Zoxan came stumbling down it. I merely needed to sidestep him and he crashed into the ground behind me, leaving us with an opening to scramble upstairs.

There were five on the rooftop, somehow caught off-guard by our approach despite seeing us enter the building, as if we'd died the second we left their sight. Steel clanged as the brutish beasts clumsily tried to swing their greatswords from their sheaths. Getting around their blows and slipping our blades through the gaps in their armor was a simple task, leaving five more dead. We quickly piled their bodies into the stairway, hoping to slow the incoming swarm.

I think that's four for me, and three for Maya. I better pick up the pace or I'll lose again.

The bodies jammed into the stairway exit clinked around as Zoxans below tried to force past them. My right foot was throbbing now, raw--even the sock I'd had on was gone.

"Thank God they don't have ranged weapons," Maya joked. "We're sitting ducks here. A few terrible archers could pick us off."

We pressed our backs together once more, staring out into the restless sea of swirling soldiers running through the city like an obsidian flood. Watching the journey of ten thousand ants, faintly glimmering in the muted, high sun.

"Ready?" Maya asked me.

"No," I replied, my mail clinking against hers. "But I'll do it anyway."